Penmort Castle (53 page)

It disappeared
again when his fingers closed around the keys and Cash’s hand moved
away from the bureau.

He shook off
the bizarre feeling thinking it was just the castle. The place was
centuries old, it likely had hot and cold draughts everywhere.

He escorted
Abby and Fenella down to the old stables. The stables were now a
five car garage where Alistair and his family kept their (far too
expensive for Alistair’s circumstances) cars and where Cash had
parked the Maserati last night.

Fenella folded
her body into the passenger seat and Cash stood in the driver’s
open door with Abby.

She tipped her
head back to look up at him and he could see the excitement on her
face at the prospect of driving his car.

“Thanks for
letting me drive your car,” she murmured.

He put his hand
to her neck and teased, “I’m thinking maybe I should have asked you
if you were a good driver before giving you my keys.”

She grinned and
leaned into him before she replied, “I’m not only a good driver,
I’m a
granny
driver.”

Cash smiled at
her amusing description of her driving style and squeezed her neck
before asking, “Do you know how to drive a stick?”

Her grin turned
playful as she exclaimed, “Of course! I’m half-American, you
know.”

“That’s why I’m
asking,” he retorted.

She shook her
head, her soft hair sliding on his hand, her face telling him she
wasn’t going to stoop to a response.

Cash went on.
“Call me when you’re heading back, I’ll meet you at the gate.”

She nodded, got
up on her toes, hand to his stomach and touched her mouth to
his.

He felt her
touch, the warmth of her body and the excitement in her eyes all
with a heady intensity that was not unusual with Abby, however it
was, in that moment, significantly more profound.

When her mouth
moved away, her eyes caught his and her soft, tender look told him
she’d felt the same.

Any vestiges of
Cash’s earlier dark mood melted away.

With effort
(for he vastly preferred spending the morning in other pursuits
with Abby, say, sexually christening another room in the castle),
he dropped his hand.

She got in, he
slammed the door and returned her wave. He nodded to Fenella, left
the garage and headed up the steep hill to the gate.

As he climbed,
he heard his car start and he turned to watch her roar out of the
garage,
not
like a granny driver, but instead like an Indy
car driver.

Then he stood
watching as the car turned on a screech of tires into the long,
steep, winding lane that led through the wood to the main road that
skirted the town.

And he
continued to watch, body now frozen, as she raced down the lane,
nearly missing the hairpin turn at the bottom, two tires in the
turf at the side of the lane.

And he still
watched from his high vantage point as she negotiated the lane,
brake lights blazing the entire way. Even so, it seemed she was
picking up speed as the high performance sports car hurtled down
the hill and she was, clearly, just keeping it on the road.

A feeling of
foreboding swept over him and before his mind made the conscious
decision to do so, he started running. He didn’t keep to the lane
but took the more direct path, sprinting through the trees on the
hill at the side of the castle, his eyes on the car as he went.

It, with Abby
in
it, was accelerating and visibly out-of-control.

He dodged trees
as he ran, watching as she jumped the curb and drove through the
turf, brake lights glowing but not slowing, straight toward the
high, thick, stone wall that surrounded Penmort estate.

He made it to
the bottom of the hill just as the car slammed into the wall with
an ugly, loud crash of crunching, twisting metal.

At the sight
and sound of Abby in his car slamming into a wall, Cash didn’t slow
even as his mind erased and a blind panic filled him.

He was tearing
across the field toward the smoking car when his blank mind
saturated. Memories collided in his brain, overlapping each other,
one crowding the other out as Cash ran.

Abby, tall,
exquisite, arresting, wearing winter white standing in the door at
the pub.

Abby telling
him he looked good in glasses.

Abby’s eyes on
him, soft and reverential, after she woke from her nap.

The fresh,
sweet taste of Abby when he kissed her after she’d sipped at her
bizarre cocktail.

In bed, Abby
and her cat, snuggling into him and falling asleep while he
worked.

Abby excitedly
babbling about how much she loved cashmere.

Abby, looking
classic and elegant, standing in his arms in his office.

The strange,
poignant sleeping positions Abby would assume, always close, always
in the protective curve of his arm.

He reached the
car and saw the demolished bonnet folded into itself and the
airbags inflated before both seats of the car.

Cash didn’t
give a thought to his car, only to one of its occupants.

He yanked open
the driver’s door to see Abby was shoved back behind the airbag.
Her head turned to him, eyes wide but blinking, face pale.

She was
breathing, moving, there was no blood in sight, no bones
protruding, and relief ripped through him.

She whispered,
“Fenella.”

Cash pushed his
arm between Abby and the airbag. “You first, love. Then I’ll take
care of Fenella.”

He found the
release on the seatbelt as she murmured, “It was stuck in go.”

Cash put one
arm under her knees, the other behind her back and cautiously slid
her out of her seat, doing a quick body scan as he did so.

What he didn’t
do was reply.

“Cash,” she
called softly as he straightened, Abby cradled in his arms, and
started striding away from the wreckage. His eyes went to hers and
she went on, “The car was stuck in go.”

“Quiet,
darling,” Cash muttered.

“I couldn’t get
it to stop,” she whispered.

He knew
that.

He knew it.

And he knew
why.

But he couldn’t
think of that now.

He had to focus
on Abby. If he didn’t focus on Abby, he would do something he would
regret. Something that would take him away from her for he’d be in
prison. Prison would mean that he would really lose Abby instead of
just experiencing the gut-twisting, soul-destroying thought of
losing her while watching her slam into a wall in his car.

“Quiet, Abby,”
he repeated gently, “we’ll talk later.” He stopped close to a tree
and set her on her feet but didn’t release his hold on her. “Can
you stand?”

She tipped her
head to look at him and pulled her hair away from her face with a
visibly trembling hand but she nodded.

Cash left her
and jogged back to the car. Fenella was carefully alighting and he
put an arm about her waist. She looked up at him, speechless for
once, wearing the same wide-eyed, pale expression as Abby. He
supported her weight and walked her back to Abby.

When they
arrived at Abby’s side, Fenella spoke. “What just happened?”

Abby’s eyes
went to Cash and she replied, “I don’t know.”

But by the look
on her face, he knew that she did.

At that moment
Suzanne, in her sporty Mercedes two-seater, turned from the main
road into the lane. Her eyes were on the wrecked car and she slowed
to a halt.

“Wait here,”
Cash ordered and jogged to Suzanne.

She was out of
the car before he arrived.

“My God, Cash,
what happened?” she breathed, eyes on the wreckage then they turned
to him and did a sweep of his body. “Are you okay?”

Cash didn’t
answer, instead he asked, “Do you have your mobile?”

She was staring
at him and her eyes moved to Abby and Fenella.

“Suzanne,”
Cash’s voice was low with impatience, “mobile.”

Her head gave a
jerk and she looked back at Cash, mumbling, “Of course.”

She leaned into
the car, got her bag and pulled out her mobile, handing it to
Cash.

Cash was
pressing numbers when he demanded, “Go back to the house, get
Honor’s Rover, come back and pick up Abby and Fenella.”

He finished
dialling, pressed go and put the mobile to his ear as she started,
“But –”

“Do it!” Cash
snapped and he heard his call to the police connect as Suzanne
hustled back into her car and took off up the lane.

Cash walked
back to Abby and Fenella as he reported the wreck. The minute he
arrived at Abby’s side he slid his arm around her shoulders and
curled her front-to-front. Both her arms wrapped around his waist
and she pressed her cheek to his chest as he kept talking.

After he made
his report, he flipped Suzanne’s phone closed and looked down at
Abby. “The police are coming. Suzanne is getting Honor’s car so she
can take you back to the castle.”

Abby nodded
mutely and Cash went on.

“Glue yourself
to Nicola’s side,” he ordered.

She pressed
deeper into him and nodded again.

Cash continued.
“I’ll bring the police to you.” His eyes turned to Fenella. “Nicola
needs to do something, you get Abby off the castle grounds
immediately.”

Fenella replied
instantly, “Yes, Cash.”

He heard cars
approaching and turned to see Suzanne’s Mercedes and Nicola’s Audi
headed their way. Honor and Nicola were both in the Audi.

Cash walked
Abby and Fenella toward the cars and watched all the women
alight.

“What on earth
–” Nicola whispered as they arrived, her eyes on the wrecked
Maserati.

Honor’s face
was ashen and her eyes were on Fenella. Then they moved to Cash and
he watched a spark of anger flare before she subdued it.

“There was an
accident,” Cash announced unnecessarily, “take Fenella and Abby
back to the castle. I’ll wait for the police.”

“Is everyone
okay?” Nicola asked, her eyes doing a scan first of her daughter
then of Abby.

“We’re fine,
Mummy,” Fenella assured her mother, linking her arm through Abby’s,
gently disengaging her from Cash and moving them both toward the
Audi. “Let’s get back. I
seriously
need a cup of tea.”

Fenella, Cash
was surprised to see, took charge and got the women in the car and
Honor drove the Audi very slowly back up the lane.

Suzanne stayed
behind, her eyes on Cash.

He pulled his
gaze from the Audi and spared Suzanne a glance before flipping open
her phone.

“Cash –” she
began.

“Not now,
Suzanne,” Cash returned, punching James’s number into the mobile as
he spoke.

She, as usual,
pushed it “Cash, you should know, Alistair –”

His eyes cut to
her and in a voice vibrating with barely controlled rage, Cash
repeated, “Not now.”

She watched him
a moment and he heard James answer.

He walked away
from her.

She got in her
car and drove to the castle as Cash gave James his orders.

* * * * *

Nicola, her
three daughters, Abby and Cash were in the drawing room. Alistair
had left early that morning to do errands unknown and had not yet
arrived back home.

Everyone except
Cash was sipping tea as Abby then Fenella told their stories to the
police.

There were a
good deal of knowing looks exchanged between the sisters, even
Suzanne, and Abby.

Nicola ignored
the knowing looks and held her body rigid as if the slightest
movement might shatter it.

Cash also held
his body rigid but in an effort to control his impulse to hunt down
Alistair Charles Beaumaris and split his skull open against the
nearest hard surface.

The police were
making preparations to leave when Alistair surged through the
door.

The room,
already fraught, went wired.

Abby was seated
on the sofa, Cash standing by her side. The moment Alistair entered
her hand shot out, her fingers closed around his and squeezed.

Tight.

Cash’s body
stayed taut for a moment then released and he squeezed back.

Alistair
looked, Cash noted with repugnance, excited.

His eyes swept
the room and fell on Cash. The excitement melted and for a moment
Alistair looked startled before he hid it.

“What
happened?” Alistair asked, walking further into the room. “When I
drove up, I saw your car wrecked, there’s police crawling all over
it. What’s going on?”

“Abby had an
accident,” Nicola said, her voice soft, her eyes on Alistair and
they were intense. She stood and continued. “Fenella was in the car
with her.”

Cash watched as
Alistair blanched then his gaze moved to Fenella. “Are you all
right?”

“Fine,” Fenella
replied, but her tone was sharp.

Alistair looked
to Abby. “Abby, how are you?”

“Alive,” Abby
answered, her voice cold, her eyes shooting icicles at his uncle
across the expanse.

Alistair’s gaze
skittered across the room, avoiding everyone else’s and coming to
rest on the police. “Well thank goodness everyone’s all right.”

“Yes,” Nicola
declared firmly, “thank goodness.”

The police, who
had paused in their exit, began to move again, one of the men
saying, “We have everything we need, we’ll call if –”

Suzanne
interrupted him. “Excuse me.”

They stopped
and turned to her as she went on, something shifting on her face,
looking at first calculating then shifting swiftly to demure.

Cash
braced.

Suzanne kept
talking. “I’m sorry, I mean, this is probably nothing. A freak
coincidence but…”

She trailed
off, playing what Cash knew was a game, as did Abby. Abby scooted
closer to him on the couch and her hand tightened in his as they
waited for Suzanne to speak.

“What is it?”
one of the police asked.